


The Shape of My Days

by Sola_Ircadia



Category: Tekken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Reminiscing, Self-Indulgent, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 15:30:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sola_Ircadia/pseuds/Sola_Ircadia
Summary: “Cocky boyfriends have to sleep on the couch.” He says, completely disingenuously, and Jin barely restrains a snort.“I suppose that’s fair, although it’ll be a tough fit for the both of us.”





	The Shape of My Days

**Author's Note:**

> Needed something happy and aimless – I hope it can make you smile, or at least feel a little better. I know I always need to practice writing dialogue, hahaha
> 
> Thanks for reading and hang in there, everyone.

Jin is merely drowsing when his phone starts going off, the muffled hum of its signature – albeit unusually rapid – vibrations rousing him from his warm, drifting state. He’s not particularly displeased by the interruption, knowing that this extra time he’s been spending in bed this morning is unusual for him, so he’s leisurely in his efforts at retrieving the device from the bedside table and examining the messages on the screen.

A rain of cheerful emojis and ecstatic statements greets him, and Jin huffs a light laugh, scrolling through the list to see that they are all, in fact, from the same person, sans one reply from Steve that somehow manages to be almost as chirpy as the other ones. _Xiaoyu_...she’s always been so active in the groupchat they share with her and some of their other friends, but something this soon certainly makes for a promising morning. She must have plans.

Beside him, Hwoarang groans, reaching out blindly with the arm that isn’t squeezing an extra pillow half to death. Jin realizes a little belatedly that all the messages Xiao sent him would definitely have been sent to Hwoarang, too, and sure enough, Jin can see the array of cheerful characters on his phone’s screen as Hwoarang clumsily accesses the messages.

“_Fucking hell_, Xiao.”

Jin snorts, and Hwoarang throws him a dirty, albeit bleary, look over his shoulder.

“Listen, you might think this kind of peppy shit is cute or whatever, but there are _lines_, dude. The word-to-face ratio is almost equal. That’s ridiculous.”

“She just would really like it if we could all go get breakfast together.” Jin says, managing to keep a straight face long enough for Hwoarang to flip him off.

“And I would like it if she’d let me _sleep_.”

Jin shakes his head, setting his phone aside and snuggling up behind Hwoarang. He wraps his arms around his waist and settles in as Hwoarang sets about answering their friend’s texts, granting her request for human interaction but asking for a compromise to lunch, _at least. _Jin hides a smile in Hwoarang’s shoulder.

“Stop laughing at me,” Hwoarang says, although there’s no heat to his voice. “You know I prefer the bliss of sleep to the wrath of the sunrise.”

“Sunrise was four hours ago,” Jin points out, eternally helpful, and Hwoarang swats lightly at him with his free hand.

“Don’t get sassy on me, now. Too many clever comebacks and this relationship will run out of control.”

“I thought you enjoyed it when I’m sassy with you. Something about making me seem like I have a personality.” Jin replies, easily recalling the years-old comment, and Hwoarang chuckles. Jin rests his chin on Hwoarang’s shoulder to see the grin on his face as he finishes responding to Xiaoyu’s texts, a bright, infectious thing that seems to radiate as much warmth as the rest of him does, if not more. Jin can’t help but smile, too, although Hwoarang doesn’t see it.

“You’re a real charmer, Jin.”

“I like to think so.”

Finished with his task at last, Hwoarang wastes no time in tossing his phone elsewhere on the mattress and snuggling back into Jin’s embrace.

“Cocky boyfriends have to sleep on the couch.” He says, completely disingenuously, and Jin barely restrains a snort.

“I suppose that’s fair, although it’ll be a tough fit for the both of us.”

Now Hwoarang laughs, a delighted sound that makes Jin want to pull him straight out of bed, pick him up, and spin him around the room. Or something. Maybe just pick him up. Given their similar builds, weights, and heights, such a feat as physically spinning him in the air like they do in the movies has always been a little far-fetched, but. Eh. A man can dream. Sometimes Jin has debated just attempting it anyway, regardless of the possible consequences – the look on Hwoarang’s face would _absolutely_ be worth it.

Jin smiles at the thought of it, smoothing his hands over Hwoarang’s waist and tugging him just a little closer.

“Mm, Jin, that tickles...!” Hwoarang squirms at the contact, gasping and laughing, batting at his lover’s hands. “That’s not fair!”

“You never play fair,” Jin retorts, trailing fingers along his sides one more time before relenting. “Why should I?”

“Cuz you’re supposed to be a sweet boy or some shit like that.” Hwoarang says, and Jin groans.

“Will I ever escape my school reputation?”

“Nothin’ wrong with being nice, Jin. Although having every girl you ever met sing your praises for the next ten years must start to get a little weird after a while, yeah?”

Jin drops his head against his shoulder and makes a muffled noise of embarrassment, prompting Hwoarang to reach back and ruffle his unruly hair.

“It did make for some interesting gossip.” He says reflectively. “Sweet little mama’s boy and the kid who spends more time in detention than out of it being best friends. Who would’ve seen that one coming?”

Jin hums. Hwoarang echoes him, then continues. “Although, to be fair, I think nothing would surprise anyone anymore after you kicked my ass in ninth grade.”

“And then you kept following me around demanding a rematch, I remember,” Jin replies fondly. “We tried to fight in the parking lot after school and your father showed up.”

“Oh, _shit_. I’ve never felt fear like that since then in my life.”

Jin can pretty much agree with him on that one, although whatever disapproval Baek had reserved for Jin in that moment certainly paled in comparison to his disappointment in Hwoarang by exponential amounts. Jin had almost been surprised to see that Hwoarang was still alive when they met at school the following day, forced into an uneasy truce by higher powers (i.e. their parents) they could never hope to contend with. Who would’ve thought that’s how it all started?

However, despite Baek’s distinct ability to be a frightening disciplinarian, Jin knows that Hwoarang’s personal list of Most Terrifying ExperiencesTM definitely has more material on it than just the unfortunate results of Baek’s uncanny ability to sense when his reckless son is getting up to something stupid.

“Not even when you wrecked your motorcycle on the way to school?” He asks innocently, and Hwoarang snorts.

“I was unconscious for most of that. Doesn’t count.”

“Not even when you met _my _father?” Jin persists, and Hwoarang is silent for several moments.

“...maybe.”

“_And _my uncle?”

“...you got a point to prove?”

“Not really. I’m just marveling at how many stupid things you’ve gotten up to.” Jin teases, laughing quietly at the indignant noise Hwoarang makes at the accusation.

“Oh, _just me, _huh? We’re both a couple of screws, you know. What about the time you locked yourself out while your parents weren’t home and you had to call me to break you into your own damn house?”

The recollection catches Jin off-guard and makes him laugh even harder, still recalling with perfect clarity the sheer _absurdity _of the situation. Rather than call a locksmith or some kind of door-opening professional like a _normal _person, he’d decided to call his best friend and see if _he _could do something about it instead. For some reason. He’ll blame it on being sixteen and panicking.

“I just can’t believe you actually _did it_.”

“They called me a delinquent for a reason, Jin.” Hwoarang says matter-of-factly, reaching back to pat him on the head. Jin shifts to dodge the contact and hooks his chin over Hwoarang’s shoulder instead so he can frown at him.

“Yeah, because you picked fights with kids at school and attacked a teacher. I don’t think they were thinking much about your history of unregistered petty crimes, although I’m sure they suspected as much.”

Hwoarang lets out a low whistle. “Oh man, I forgot I knocked a teacher out. Fucker deserved it.”

Jin honestly isn’t sure how Hwoarang could possibly just _forget _something that monumental and chalks it up to the simple fact that getting into fights is almost second nature for him. If something makes him mad, he’s going to do something about it. Even if that something was knocking a grown man unconscious during school hours.

“Regardless of whether or not he _deserved it_ – ” Which he had, of course. Hwoarang’s brand of justice may be on the aggressive side, but it was certainly accurate. “ – it was still pretty scary to see you get taken away by the police.”

“Didn’t feel too great, either.” Hwoarang admits. “I still owe your uncle a life-debt for bailing me out of that one.”

“Don’t tell him that – he’ll take you up on it.” Jin warns him, only half-joking, and Hwoarang shudders dramatically.

“Trust me, I know he would. I’ll just settle for being grateful that he’s accepted me as a potential family member. He and your father, both.”

Privately, Jin is grateful for the very same thing. They’d kept the deeper nature of their relationship under wraps during high school, mostly because they’re private people but also because they just didn’t really feel like dealing with all the conversations they would have to have about it. The explaining they would be required to do, to friends and parents alike. A latent sense of fear had kept them pinned in place, both _almost _certain that it would be fine, but unable to shake the nagging uneasiness that, just this once, it wouldn’t be.

Their anxiety had ended up being utterly unfounded, of course – Baek and Jun’s only worries had been (as they’d always been) for their safety, and that had less to do with the fact that they were dating and more to do with the fact that they were both teenage boys who fed off of each other’s impulsivity.

An unexpected, but nonetheless fair concern, really.

The response from Jin’s paternal side of the family had surprised and alarmed them in equal measure. Kazuya had made it clear that he didn’t give a shit _what _they did with their time, so long as they weren’t stupid about it (so a more bluntly stated version of Baek and Jun’s concerns, basically), and Lee...well. Evidently, he’d known they were into each other since he first met Hwoarang when they were still in tenth grade – _before _they’d started dating. He hadn’t worried about it then and he hadn’t worried about it when they’d told him, only beaming at them both and giving Jin one of those tight, warm hugs that he loved so much.

Everything had been fine until they’d ganged up on Hwoarang while Jin wasn’t with him, promising the then-seventeen-year-old all manner of torment and bodily harm if he dared to upset Jin in any way. Hwoarang hadn’t been specific on the details of their approach, but Jin could easily imagine it, anyway – his father, all deep frowns and silent death-glares, and his uncle, a charming smile and smooth voice as he laid out the specific machinations of Hwoarang’s brutal murder. It has been over seven years since then, and although everything has been totally fine and Jin has reassured him numerous times that they would never actually go through with their threats, Hwoarang still gets a little nervous whenever he has to see them. They suppose it’s a given when two of your parental figures may or may not have been crime lords at one point in their colorful lives.

“It was either that, or make me sad. They’ve never been very good about standing their ground on things when I’m upset.” Jin explains, pressing a kiss to Hwoarang’s shoulder. “You make me happy, so you get to stay. It’s as simple as that.”

Hwoarang snorts. “How _did _you get two of the most powerful men in the world wrapped around your little finger, anyway?”

“According to all reports, I was a very adorable child.”

“Right, right. The cute factor. I should’ve seen that one coming – you’re still pretty cute sometimes.” Hwoarang teases, looking back slightly to tap Jin on the nose without poking him in the face. “See, my father just wanted me to stop rifling through his garbage.”

“I don’t think that’s why he adopted you.” Jin says wryly. “Just like I didn’t become friends with you because you kept trying to fight me.”

Hwoarang shifts, turning over in the bed so he can face Jin properly. His hair is mussed on the side that was previously against the pillow, really adding to the general untidiness of his morning appearance. Everything about him is still a little soft at the edges, more alert than he was before but lacking his usual untamed vigor – a simmering flame instead of a wildfire. He’s pleasantly soft and content, a huge, happy grin on his face as he leans forward to bump his nose against Jin’s in an affectionate gesture.

Jin loves him so much it almost hurts to breathe.

“And why _did _you become my friend, Jin Kazama?” Hwoarang asks, the picture of innocence even though they’ve done this silly little song and dance a thousand times before. Jin smiles.

“Because you made me realize what I was missing,” he replies, touching his forehead to Hwoarang’s. “And you made me realize how much I wanted it.”

It’s a simple way of summing up just how _much _Hwoarang had changed his life, how much he continues to change it to this day. Words are not Jin’s strong suit – runs in the family, that, and it’s probably the most compelling evidence to proving that Lee is adopted in spite of the other, equally obvious factors – and they aren’t really Hwoarang’s either, even though he sure does say an awful lot of them. They’re action-driven people more than anything, understanding that trait in each other and having their own ways of communicating, but sometimes the verbal confirmation is just really...nice.

Because honestly, Jin just wants to get the point across in as many ways as possible. _You’re wonderful. You’re hilarious. You’re stubborn and stupid and you give me such a headache sometimes, but that’s just **you **and I wouldn’t change a thing because I can be the same way. You teach me new things every day and you know how to listen, even when I’m not speaking. You challenge me. You make me happy. I love you. I love you. I love you._

“So Hwoarang.” Jin starts quietly, and his lover hums in response. “Why did _you _become my friend?”

A soft laugh, an even softer kiss – Jin can feel Hwoarang smiling against his lips, one hand coming up to rest against his cheek even as Jin strokes his thumb against his waist, even and steady. When they separate, Jin nuzzles into his wrist, closing his eyes.

“Because you kicked my ass.” Hwoarang’s voice is low and warm, full of even more feelings and meanings now that Jin can’t see him. _You’re amazing. You’re delightful. You’re stubborn and stupid and you give me such a headache sometimes, but that’s just **you **and I don’t care cuz I’m no different. You show me new ways to live every day and you’re always patient with me, even when I don’t deserve it. You challenge me. You make me happy. I love you. I love you. I love you._ “You kicked my ass, and I knew right then that I wanted to keep fighting you like that for the rest of our lives.”

Jin laughs, the feeling bubbling up inside him, light and happy – he kisses Hwoarang again before opening his eyes, asking,

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Hwoarang practically glows at Jin’s laughter, at his remark, at his presence here on this easy, lazy morning that they’re sharing. Their foreheads touch again, a universe unto themselves – Jin covers Hwoarang’s hand with his own, pressing it against his face.

_I love you. _

“Oh, that’s a promise, Jin. You and me, forever.”

They wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
